


The Raccoon {A Fierrochase Neighbours AU}

by LuciferStary



Category: Fierrochase - Fandom, HoO - Fandom, MCGA - Fandom, Magnus Chase - Fandom, Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard - Fandom, PJO - Fandom, Riordanverse, toa - Fandom
Genre: F/M, M/M, alt alex, basic annabeth, punk magnus, warning mentions of Shane Madej, watch out non-canon heights
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28212825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuciferStary/pseuds/LuciferStary
Summary: "Hi, I'm Alex, I usually wouldn't bother you guys with this but there's a raccoon loose in my apartment and I can't call my sister (she's out with friends). I'm so sorry to ask you this, can you please help me get it out?"
Relationships: Beatrice - Relationship, Fierrochase - Relationship, percabeth - Relationship
Kudos: 21





	1. The Raccoon

**Author's Note:**

> Here ya go!

Magnus

T.J. and I were playing Mario Kart. Well, I was playing, T.J. was brutally murdering me in the game, as if it were a crime of passion. I mean, I had no idea how he was so good at this. He told me that he had never played it before. I eyed him, suspiciously. T.J. (stands for Thomas Jefferson) was a raven-haired twenty-year-old that had been gifted eyes the colour of earth, not in a dirty way but in a calming way, like you were safe in a charming fairy tale forest. He had a lanky frame and a face that was constantly covered in a smile. Jefferson's physique was adorned in black pants and a black hoodie. He had become one of my best friends, since I had moved out of my uncle's hellhole for uni. The game had ended, me in last place, T.J. in first, of course.

"Someone moved in," He declared, a yawn running out his mouth. I flipped my head around causing my neck to admit a loud crack and my sort-of-not-even-hair hair to cloud my vision.

"Really, who?" I certainly would never be the first to confess it, but I adored hear the most mundane stories from my friends, pals, allies, peers, chums, other words that mean people I show platonic affection to. Friends are fun and I do love me some fun.

"This green-haired lady, I heard she was an artist. Her name was something like Alex. She's genderfluid," T.J. glanced to the left, reminding my conscious of a show me and my mom had watched years back, apparently when someone turned the left they were remembering and to the right they were lying though it had been debunked numerous times. I was like that with somethings; I could tell you names of at least twenty of Homer's nereids but often forgot that Greece was a country. My mum said my brain was half sponge and half rock.

"So which apartment is she moving into?" I asked, voice like a squeaky toy.

"Oh, just next door," Next door? Next door? NEXT DOOR? Nope, nien, non, Chan eil, Nee, nihil. I muttered under my breath; words so vile my uncle would have washed my mouth out with dish soap.

"Why you so down, Beantown?"

"First of all, do not call me that, Thomas. Second of all, people are scary and people I don't know, completely horrifying," I gestured at the sky at 'completely horrifying'. What I had said was true, people are completely horrifying, especially people I would probably be in contact with every day while keeping at an acquaintance level relationship. Neighbours are the worst.

My most amazing thoughts were interrupted by a knock on my beige door. T.J. leapt towards the door, as if he were cheetah, flinging it open and catching it just before the handle hit my wall. Stood in the outline of the doorframe, was a person wearing a pale pink jumper that looked like she had skinned a My Little Pony and made the decision to wear it and a green denim miniskirt with sheer tights. Her hair was coated by a punch pink veil, that dripped down her shoulders.

"Oh, hi T.J., I didn't know you lived next door," She said, with a smile. She was vertically challenged so she was short as fuck, with light brown skin, black curly hair that was crept from underneath her veil. The lady opened her mouth to speak before she was cut off by Thomas.

"This apartment isn't mine, it's Magnus'," He lifted an open hand in my direction. I waved from my spot on the couch. My flat had the entrance leading to the open plan living/dining room/kitchen then there were two doors one leading to my bedroom and the other to the bathroom. I had not decorated much apart from a few photos here and there. It was not home but it was good enough.

"Hi, I'm Alex. She/her unless I tell you otherwise," She turned towards me then back to T.J.."I usually wouldn't bother you guys with this but there's a raccoon loose in my apartment and I can't call my sister (she's out with some friends). I'm so sorry to ask you this, can you please help me get it out?" Her voice was pretty, I thought then I thought, how could a voice be pretty? After that I told my brain to stop working which it did not, inconsiderate brain.

"Absolutely. Magnus and I would be delighted to be of service," While I was trying to turn off my neurons, T.J. had grabbed me off my sofa to the door and was now standing behind me (hands placed on my shoulders) bouncing on heels, in the manner of an excited child. Alex fixed me with a questioning look as she tilted her head.

"Yeah, sure," I replied, trying to reassure her thereupon I realised my monotone voice often sounded sarcastic especially paired with the words I had said so I tried to smile. Spotlight on tried. I was not fantastic at smiling or catching raccoons now that I thought about it. Hopefully, my amateur raccoon detaining skills would be good enough.

Turns out our raccoon imprisonment skills were just about satisfactory so after twenty minutes of pure, unadulterated havoc, we had the raccoon in a cage.

"Should we name them?" Proposed Alex, her pink jumper had been switched out for a more practical emerald crop top. We were all sat around the cage, like we were preparing for a demonic ritual.

"He is definitely a Lucifer or a Set,"

"No, he's a Lydia or at least a Charlie," T.J. shot back, raven coiled hair surrounding his face, while Alex glared at the feral animal with a ferocious anger. Apparently, the creature had raided her clothes boxes and ripped her scarf into threads.

"Jack!" I said, well, yelled. I have no idea why the name Jack came to me, but I cannot say that the moniker was incorrect. He gave off a vibe and I am not in the position to argue with vibes.

"That's bullshit," Though I was in the position to argue with Alex.

"Really?" Before I could stop myself, my hands were on my waist, my back straightened itself furthermore I tilted my chin up. My body was in what I liked to call 'courtroom queen'. It is a pose I learnt from watching Elle Woods kick ass. I would have done her proud had I been wearing a hot pink skinny dress however I did not own any clothes in that fashion. "Because, in my humble opinion," My tone had gone from happy devil's advocate hostage-taker to smooth-talking 1940s private detective in every cop show ever. "Jack is the perfect sobriquet for such an intelligent varmint and, may I say, in my humblest opinion, is a much better option than Seth or, god-forbid Lucifer. Pun intended," Just as I was about to mime putting sunglasses on my face; I fell on my behind in a rather dramatic stunt.

"Good point, Maggie, but are you sure that's how you want to end your speech?" Alex shot back, giving me her hand to help me up. I used one hand to steady myself and let Alex take the other one. That was when I noticed her eyes, one was a dark brown that looked like my mum's black coffee, the other one was caramel. It was unnerving, but in the way a storm is when it is hurtling at you. The same feeling when lightning strikes just outside your house. Exhilaratingly unnerving.

"That was exactly how I planned to end that one sentence long speech," I countered, standing upright. "Anyway, what is your point of view?"

"I think that naming him Jack is stupid. Lucifer was the one destined to fall because of his nature, just like the little one. Seth is practically the god of chaos; the raccoon is chaos. Jack just does not compare!" So, fun fact about my neighbour, she did not appreciate the name, Jack.

"Uh, we're on about Jack here. You know, the guy from Jack and Jill, Jack and the Beanstalk, Jack Frost, Jack the Giant Killer, Little Jack Horner and This is The House That Jack Built as well as having similarities with the English hero, John and the Russian hero, Ivan the Fool. He is a trademark of Cornish and English mythos!" As I had previously mentioned, half sponge and half rock. I learnt all that from a school project about King Arthur and I spent a lot of time (way too much time) researching British folktales. "If that is not chaotic, I have no idea what is. He is a trickster and a rebel! Lazy but smart!" Then the green-haired lady giggled. And I giggled too. Her laugh was a glass of chilled grape shloer on a humid summer's day. It was beautiful, like the ocean spray hitting your face as you breathe the freedom of the sea. We were fighting over a raccoon's name. A raccoon that was not here. The creature was not here. It was not here. That was a problem. "Where's the demon?"

"More importantly, where's T.J.?" The cage was gone. The T.J. was gone. "Did the raccoon kill him?"


	2. *Bing* What Are You Up To?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex speaks to Magnus. Magnus speaks to Alex.

Alex P.O.V.

Asking if a raccoon killed somebody was not a good or particularly well-thought out question but I wanted, needed, to hear that chuckle again. I will not give you any bullshit about how it was like a thunderstorm or a waterfall because it was not. If I had to compare it to something stupid, it would be fitted dress. Everything was right. It was a presence you wanted in your life. Then it shook me that I was crushing on my neighbour who I had known thirty minutes. At least it was better than I fell in love with this cashier after his hand grazed mine. I mean, the cashier was very cute. With his raven hair, painted lilac nails, and wide smile. No, bad Alex, you are never going to meet him again, but you do live next door to the tall blond. I could not decide which option was worse.

"Of course, he did, Alex. The raccoon ate T.J.," His deadpan face scanned mine and I hoped that his tone would betray more emotion that plain old sarcasm. It did not. Hope is very cruel thing.

"Okay, but, seriously, where is that witch of an animal? It could be near my clothes. My clothes!" My hand clutched my chest, as I bent my back at an angle. I felt the one character who accuses everyone else of killing somebody in a murder mystery. Damn, I would be a dynamic character in a murder mystery, or as it may be a major character and the romantic interest in a book about the Norse gods that also includes characters from other popular novels written by the same author who struggles writing non-disgusting Cherokee representation. I would be fantastic at that. 

"Your clothes!" He exclaimed, relaxed posture turning proper once more. "What about my notebooks? What if someone finds out my evil plan to murder the president?" He bought his hand to his mouth in mock seriousness. "Oh, no!" He let out, voice completely changed from the one he used while ranting about the name, Jack. Both of his hands were on the sides of his cheeks comparable to that one expressionist painting, The Scream. Or the cover of the Home Alone. Except he had shoulder length sunshine hair, soulless grey eyes and a light dash of pale brown freckles across his nose. I had not noticed that I was laughing. Of course, I was laughing. Forget mister lilac nails. I had a Magnus that lived in my apartment block, that had not judged me, had not given me side eye or a 'I hope you'll find God's path soon'.

Some days, I get angry that my standard is so low that if you do not try to 'fix' me, I will fall completely love you. Other times, I am glad to be safe without the threat of a slur or a punch being thrown in my direction but alas that is not how the world is now. I am willing to fight for that world though. My phone buzzed causing Maggie to flinch. I fished it out my pocket, it kept slipping from my fingers, as I opened it, I found a notification from '~Reyna~'. 

Alex, what are you up to?

I texted back, faster than average dance beat.

Cant talk right now. In a situation, txt u later

"Who are you talking to? Are you talking about me?" He said in a drawn-out sing-songy voice, while melodramatically fluttering his eyelashes. I was aware that he was fiddling with something.

"No, about the raccoon," I fixed him with a death stare. "He's a more important part of my life than you," He feigned indignation in the most theatrical way (wiping his eyes to mimic crying). It came to my attention that Magnus was lying on my sofa, chin sat on the back, gazing in my direction. The couch faced away from me so I could not see the rest of Maggie's body. 

"I'm going to find out where T.J. ran off to," He slid off the settee and sauntered out through the front door. "I hope you have a glorious day!" He spoke, drowning every syllable in his sweet smile. When I saw him walking through my doorframe, it hit me how tall he was. He was the same height as one and a third of me. That was so unfair! Now, I have, like, ten reasons to fight God when I die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeahhhhhhhhhh! Nope.


	3. Reyna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex internet stalking and, my queen, Reyna.

Alex

Magnus had left twenty minutes ago, apparently T.J. had gotten sick of our bickering and decided to free Set instead. I let my mind wander to him, he was sweet, dramatic and charming. What's there not to love? Me and my phone also did our fair share of internet stalking. He likes poetry, Doctor Who, dystopian novels, as well as falafel. He loves falafel. More than he loves anyone else. Can't blame him. He also helped at charity events, babysat his cousin's boyfriend's little sister, Estelle, as well as two out of three cousins (husband material, if I ever wanted a husband) and he also did his fair share of making a mockery of any absurd law he found. He was a law student that was a history buff in his spare time. The guy seemed really sweet. 

An ear shatteringly loud knock interrupted my train of thought, forcing me up from where I sat on the hot pink settee with lime accents (what can I say? I have terrible taste). I strutted towards my door, attempting to resemble a peacock, looking more like a hot mess than anything else. My eyes crossed over my door. It was too plain. Way too plain. Dark brown, silver handle. I wondered if the landlord would let me paint it. What I would do with it? What method? Colours? Style? And then, I opened the door. There was Reyna Ramírez-Arellano, my very best friend. Reyna was a level headed badass, that I had known since middle school.

"You said, there was a situation," She said, slipping under my arm, pointing her dagger at the settee like she was afraid it would attack us. She turned the blade over in her hand. That woman always had a weapon on her; the only thing I had was my clay cutter and I struggled keeping that anywhere near me. "Has it got something to do with this?" Her index finger was indicating towards threads of what had once been a treasured scarf of mine. Malicious monster that raccoon was.

"Yes, Reyna, I had a raccoon in my house situation. The creature destroyed Mister Scarfie, over here," I stated, smirk spreading across my face. It was nice to know that my best friend would travel an hour and a half just to make sure I was okay. My smirk slowly became a small smile. The lady that stood in front of me was clothed in jet combat boots, raven leggings along with a purple T-shirt that had her track team name on it, New Rome. She was inspecting the room like some sort of odd ghost-hunter.

"Yes, you do have a situation," Reyna replied holding up a hot pink sticky note. "Alex, here's my number if you ever need to call, Magnus!" Reyna spoke, in a voice that was not her own, raising her eyebrows and giving me a wicked look. "Aww, look they even put hearts instead of dots on the is( A/N I mean multiple of the letter i)"

"Hey, he's just a friend," I shot back, walking towards the kitchen section of my apartment. My place was littered with cardboard boxes of every size. All my art supplies were already out. They were my bread and butter, always the first priorities in my head. I love art more than I love myself. I don't love myself a lot but you get what I mean. My apartment was full of stuff. My assortment of colourful chairs were already out. My cushions as well as my clothes were scattered about the floor. It was a right mess but at least half of it was the raccoon's fault, not mine. "Do you want a drink?"

"Hey, calm yourself, I never said anything about him being more than a friend. Can I please have some Pepsi Max?" Ever polite was she. Reyna settled herself down on a wooden chair I had painted white then, while in a rage, splattered it with spots of wine red. She was drawing circles on her arms, smiling.

"Yes, but you insinuated it," I countered, plucking a cherry Tizer, for myself, as well as a can of Pepsi Max, for Reyna, out of the fridge. The can landed in Reyna's hand after I threw it over my head (I have great aim because I played, like, fifty sports when I was younger). 

"Did you really need to do that? Now, I can't drink this for another five minutes," She acknowledged, lengthy raven hair swept across her shoulders. Her legs were crossed and she was picking at the fabric of her leggings. That was her way of letting herself go. Reyna was always pristine, polished and all those other words. She was the captain of her track team; she had straight A's; she was even on the path to forgiving her abusive father for some reason I would never be able to name ("He's dead, Alex. He can't hurt me any more if I don't let him, that's why I want to forgive him,") I guess, in a way, I was her escape. "Want to watch a movie?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone loves Reyna. Well, they should


	4. The Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I project my homophobic grandmother and my cynical veiw of family onto Magnus. Mentions of homophobia.

Magnus

I was not the biggest fan of the concept of family, of other people who decided what to do with me, of people with similar genetics that I had to love. Now, do not get me wrong, I love my mother and my cousins (I tolerate their parents) but, not a big fan (as previously mentioned) of the whole concept. See, my family was an absolute mess. It all started with my grandfather, a kind-hearted, Jewish, Norwegian immigrant, along with my grandmother, Roman Catholic, North American (not turtle island native), and their inability to raise children. They had three, Randolph, Frederick and my mother, Natalie, which led to me, Annabeth, her two brothers (A/N * Forgot their names and which book that they were spoke about * ), and Randolph's two daughters, that he would not speak about. It was an absolute mess. 

I did not have family. I had safe people. People like Blitz, Hearth, Annabeth, and more. People that had my back, would be there, were my safe spaces. I liked it that way. I liked choosing who I cared about. I liked learning to love those around me, instead of being forced to care. It felt right. 

Those not-so-fun thoughts had been prompted by my re-reading of The Prom and Not Even Bones (A/N Read these two books; they are amazing). It had brought some not-happy memories of an angry grandmother, an apologetic grandfather and a dead mother. I had grown up without a father, and no matter what people tell you, it hurts. It hurts knowing that I was not good enough for somebody. That the one person whose job it was to love you did not. I had had my mother but someone had still abandoned me. It hurts and it hurts and it hurts. Lots of things hurt. That is how life is but that will not stop me from getting angry about injustices, just not the ones that happen to me. I mourn those. I mourned losing my mother. I mourned my absence of a father. I mourned the fact that my Grandmother would not look me in the eyes after I came out to her. I got angry at when I found out about Frederick's neglect of Annabeth. I got angry when I was informed of the abuse Hearth had endured. I got angry for others. That is how I functioned, I guess.

"Magnus!" Speak of the devil. "If you don't open this door, I'll celebrate getting into the school on your doorstep!" Annabeth Chase. My favourite cousin.

"God, calm yourself," I yelled, pouncing from my chair to the door. I opened my door to find Annabeth fizzling with excitement or joy. I could not be sure. Her curly, blonde hair was pulled into a low ponytail. She was wearing a white shirt, raven dress pants and a black blazer. She, forcefully, grabbed me by my shoulders and began violently bouncing up and down on her heels.

"Mags! I got in! I got in! I. Got. In. I can't believe it," As Annabeth's ramblings continued, I led her towards the couch. I was in no way surprised that she got in. Annabeth was smart, respectful as well as confident. She could achieve anything if she wanted to. Many more muttered phrases were thrown about before I interrupted her with:

"I'm proud of you,"

"You shouldn't say that. You're not my dad," Annabeth smiled, as she spoke. Her hand was running up her other arm. 

"Hey, you never know! I heard your mother was a beauty," I teased, smirking like the menace that I was. Annabeth shot me an attempt at a death glare; it failed miserably. I had faced much worse looks than hers.

"This is why people don't like you," She replied, arms crossed in front her chest, acting older than she was.

"Hey! Many people like me, and at least five of them aren't me in a wig!" I said this matter-of-factly, as if I were not taking the piss. It was true though five people did like me (Blitz, Hearth, Mallory, T.J., Halfborn) and none of those were family. Annabeth was giggling.

"So, after I celebrate getting into the school for forty days and forty nights, will you make amends with the rest of the squad?" Annabeth always asked this. Every single time she saw me. One day I would cave in, unfortunately for her, that day was not today.

"First of all, stop referring to our family as, and I quote, 'the squad'. Second of all, no," I knew what answer Annabeth wanted to hear but some of those people I could not forgive or forget. Annabeth was one of those people who thought that their family would be there for them, no matter what. I let her depend on me, not because she was my cousin, because she was a friend. My tone was pleasant yet it still showed my resolve. 

"Why not?" Annabeth was completely unaware of the 'Grandma hates me for something I cannot control' situation. Or as some may call it, 'Elderly American woman despises her grandson because he likes boys and girls. How dare he!'. I can tell you everything that happened on that day I came out to her. I can tell you what I ate for breakfast. I can tell you the exact words my Grandmother used when she tried to convince my Mother and Grandpa to as she would say it "Make him normal". But I won't. Because she doesn't deserve to be remembered. I am normal and even if I'm not, what's the problem? What's wrong with being different?

"You know how it is. None of us get on," I hoped to Hell and back that would be enough of an excuse. Turns out, I did not need it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all don't hate me for being a cold-hearted witch, stay safe!


	5. Hell-o

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth attempts to be Natalie but she is not there yet. Also, serial killers.

Magnus P.O.V.

The reason I did not need to make up some non-homophobic excuse as to why my relatives hated me was because at that exact moment T.J. and Alex decided to burst through the door.

"The raccoon is back!" T.J. screamed at me. Both of them looked they had just been pulled through a bush backwards. Blood ran down the side of Alex's face. I felt Annabeth grip my arm. Fair enough, they did resemble cold-hearted serial killers. Or demons from the ninth circle of Hell. Fun fact: The Catholic idea of Hell was originally being eternally disconnected from God but that all changed when Dante wrote a bunch of stuff about people he did not like. Sort of similar to the Burn Book from Mean Girls.

"Oh, shit, sorry. We'll sort the raccoon out by ourselves, bye! Uh, have a good day! He/him, right now," I assumed the pronouns Alex had just said were his. He ran his hand through his hair, dragging his nails against his scalp, flashing what would have been a trustworthy smile had it not been accompanied with his eyes that sparkled with a sense of mischief. "Sorry!" Alex winked. The green-haired male was wearing a pair of paint-splattered black jeans, a raven leather jacket, that was coated in pins of every colour with words I could not make out, along with a 'Fuck The Cistem' neon green crop top; T.J. was in a recreation of a 1860s suit for some reason (probably something to do with how terrible modern fabrics were). They tumbled through the doorway, Alex towing T.J. out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After about two seconds, my favourite cousin worked up the courage to ask about my serial-killer-look-a-like friends.

"The raccoon?" Annabeth inquired.

"You don't want to know," I answered. To be honest, Annabeth would probably want to know; but giving her any more information on what I get up to would ruin her view of me. I do not think she has a positive view of me anyway, I certainly would not.

"Tell me, come on," She jabbed my arm. Fun Fact about Annabeth: If she loves you, she will also beat the shit out of you. Once, she judo-flipped her boyfriend, Percy (she mistook him for a burglar but now the do the fighting thing for fun all the time).

"Ok, so the really short one is my new neighbour," Annabeth was nodding, which was an odd thing to do when she had her disagreeing face on, that meant she didn't believe what I was saying. "The not-so-short one is T.J., you know, the friend I told you about,"

"And the raccoon?" Ah, yes, Jack. My favourite demon.

"That is Jack. He broke into Alex's apartment. We have a very strained relationship with him," I mean, he nearly told everyone about my plans to murder the president. Who does that? Killings before shillings, peeps.

"Who's we?" Oh my god. Not this again. There were two things Annabeth brought up consistently that annoyed me: Number one, Her commitment to family who have and will hurt her. Number two, her commitment to finding me a partner. Her reasons for the latter was 'You, me, Percy and your special someone can go on a double-date!' (I already expressed to her that all my relationships would monogamous, she would have made adjustments to her words if I had said otherwise). She always kept her references to my future lovers gender neutral but she hadn't perfected my mother's 'I know you're queer, when are planning to tell me so that I can clear my schedule?' voice. That was an iconic voice.

"Ain't anything like that. Just three neighbours under an alliance to defeat a vicious vermin's antagonizing antics!" I spoke as if I were the most celebrated logician of all times. My hands flew out when I said 'alliance', showing off my greatness. It may not have been a sentence that a fantastic philosopher (Diogenes does not count) would say but my alliteration was pretty pleasant.

"Though, they are both very cute," She prompted, wrapping her arm around me, giving me another attempt at an action my mother did before I came out to her. This one was called the look of 'are you sure that he's just a friend?'. My mum was correct; Baz was definitely more than a friend.

"Oh, you really think they're cute. Tell you what, T.J.'s single right now," I stuck my tongue out and blew raspberries. I love my safe people, not my family, my safe people. 

"But, why were they covered in blood?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Magnus identifies as queer. Later on in this fic (like 10 chapters later), Magnus has a gender crisis coz im projecting on the poor lad.


End file.
